Love is just a Game
by Hello Kitty Speedboat
Summary: It's 1999, the summer of Love. Christian is a penniless author and Satine is a singer at a bar. When She writes a book about how love gets in the way, can Christian change her mind? Follows movie story line, but it's different!! Please read and reveiw!
1. Escaping New York

Love is just a Game

Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, Satine, Christian (though I really wanna..lol) or anything of that sort!!

A/N: It's 1999. Satine and Christian have not yet met. Christian is a famous author and has written many books. Satine is a singer and a dancer at a local bar. When Satine comes out with a book of her own called **Love is just a Game, **she writes about her ideas of truth, beauty, freedom, and love and how they only interfere with our lives. Christian comes to change her mind.

P.s. I'm pretty sure New York does not have direct flights to Montmartre but I made Christian have one anyway so please don't mind that!!

________________________________________________________________________

****

Escaping New York

"There finished!" Christian slammed the book shut. He exposed his goofy boyish smile and swept the book up in his hands. He pulled it closer to his mouth and planted a large kiss on the cover. He, then, placed it off to the side. He got up from his chair and went to the phone. He gently pressed the numbers into the phone and pulled it up to his ear. He heard a few rings before a man with a raspy voice answered it.

"Hello?" said the voice over the receiver.

"Hello, can I speak to mister Neville please? Thanks!" Christian held tight to the phone, his hands gripped with excitement. A man with a more soothing voice, yet firm, answered it this time.

"Hello?"

"Mister Neville! I finished, I finally finished!"

"Finished what exactly?"

"My book! You know, my book, **Your Song**?!" Christian was losing the excitement in his voice.

"Oh, right. The one about the guy who goes and tries to destroy a ring?"

"uh, no, sir…The one about the girl who falls in love with the man who has cancer,"

"Oh, uh, sorry. Right, ok…..um….bring it to me, it sounds kind of good.."

"Yes, sir," Christian had lost all of his happiness now. Not only had Mr. Neville forgotten he had written a book but he had forgotten the title! Christian really could not stand the man sometimes. In fact, he hated the man at the most. He never respected his workers. He treated them likes pieces of crap, like they were nobody. Though, one thought still stuck in his mind, he was going to get his book published. He was more than excited about that. Then again, the only way he could get it published was if Mr. Neville liked his work and would give him a good recommendation to the editors. 

Christian replaced the receiver back on the base of the phone and grabbed his jacket. He placed his dark blue hat on his head and stepped out the door.

He busily strolled down the street, waving or smiling to people he knew. He didn't bother to catch a cab when New York City, which was were he was currently living, had so many sidewalks. It took him just about 5-10 minutes to get anywhere in the city, well from where he was located. So, in just a few minutes, Christian reached his destination. He opened the big glass doors and built up his confidence as he continued to walk into the building. The pearly floor held Christian's friendly and happy reflection. The brass elevators seems to open for him as he approached them and the employees welcomed him with open arms.

He stood in the elevator, watching the numbers, on the panel to his right, light up a fluorescent yellow. His body began to tense up as he slowly reached the top floor. The numbers of floors had increased from ONE, TWO, THREE to now: FIFTEEN, SIXTEEN, SEVENTEEN, and finally, EIGHTEEN. The wide doors opened for Christian. He stepped out and proceeded to Mr. Neville's office.

A large gray door stood in front of Christian. He took a deep breath and walked straight into the room.

"Mr. Neville, It's me!"

"Ah, Christian, my boy. How are you doing on this fine day?"

"Oh, what a fine day it is sir! I am doing quite well thank you! And yourself?" Christian replied, trying his best to suck-up.

"Just Fine, thank you!" Christian walked toward him, holding his book in his hand. He thrust it into Mr. Neville's hands. Mr. Neville looked down at the blue cover of the rather large book. He slowly opened it's cover and revealed it's front page. 

"Christian, you really shouldn't have spent time writing this! If you really wanted to write something than write something useful!" 

"Like….Like what?" Christian asked, quite dumbfounded and upset that he had been insulted.

"Well, like books we can learn from or we actually care about reading! I am a business man and I don't have time to read this!" A frown swept Christian's bright smile off his face. He snatched the book from Mr. Neville's hands and turned to walk out the door.

"Christian?! Christian?! Come back here. Christian!"

Christian ignored Mr. Neville's cries and stalked out of the room. When passing a near-by trash can, Christian tossed the book inside. He knelt against the wall, his heart filled with anger and hatred toward Neville. He let out a few sharp and heavy breaths and continued out the building, leaving his book behind.

He came back to his apartment and slammed the door. He sat by his typewriter and took out a shot glass along with a body of brown liquid, beer, the other green fairy. He poured the alcohol into the glass and took it to his mouth. He nearly inhaled it but instead it went into the right tube and settled in Christian's stomach, whilst burning his throat.

__

I'm going to go away! I'll go to a place where people can appreciate my work and praise me for it! But where should I go? England…no, too crowded……Scotland…no, to scenic…I need to go to a place where there is a ton of beauty…I got it!

Christian quickly swept across the room to his collection of old movies. He pulled out a classic called **Moulin Rouge (52') starring Jò se Ferrer, Zsa Zsa Garbor, and Suzanne Flon.**

__

I'll go to Montmartre…………

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Three days later…..

Christian packed his bags for his trip to Montmartre. Bringing with him, his notebook of ideas, extra paper, his lucky pen, and a few suits and t shirts, and his toothbrush. He grabbed his long blue overcoat and hat, as he stepped out the door. He walked into the elevator with his luggage at hand. He was alone in the elevator except for a book that laid upon the floor. He bent down and placed his suitcase on the floor. He picked up the book and grazed the cover with his finger. The title read **A Life's Journey.** The book appeared to not be a novel but a scrapbook. Christian flipped through the pages and was surprised to find them all black except for the first page. He leaned more into the book and read the curved writing. 

__

The Greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.-Anonymous

Christian stared deep into the words as if he wanted them to tell him something he did not know. The words absorbed into his mind. If it had not been for the ring of the elevator, letting him know he had reached his floor, he would have stayed in that trance for hours upon hours.

Christian snapped out of it and took a few steps off the elevator, allowing those who wanted to get on, get on. He gripped his suitcase firm in his hands and proceeded out the door, ignoring those who said hi to him. The clerks, feeling insulted, did not grin at him as he left nor did they say goodbye.

"TAXI!!" Christian shouted to the yellow cabs merely thirty feet away. One pulled up in front of him and a man with, a rather disgruntled one, got out and took Christian's bag from him. Christian opened the door of the cab and gazed once more at the city around him. He carefully moved his feet inside and the reluctantly pulled the rest of him in the cab.

They took off rather fast. The only talking that came from the taxi was that of the radio. Christian folded his hands in his lap and waited. All the while, becoming more and more anxious to reach the airport.

At long last, the yellow cab pulled in front of the enormous building, full of windows. Christian climbed out of the cab and gladly paid the driver. He picked up his suit case and walked straight in through the doors. He strolled through the hallways, examining each interesting thing as he passed it. He made his way right through security and to his gate, ticket in hand.

After only a few moments, Christian got his boarding call. He got up and took his palace behind a tall man with stunning gold hair. He was dressed fairly nice and carried only a small bag by his side. When it was the man's turn, Christian heard the attendant ask for his ticket. The man gave it to him carelessly, and as if he had better things to do. 

"Have a nice flight sir," The kind flight attendant remarked. The man looked over at her, disgusted.

"Thanks," he replied rather flatly. His voice was a little high pitched and now Christian noticed his mousy mustache.

Christian stepped up to the flight attendant.

"Hello sir, enjoy your flight!"

"Thank you m'am," Christian replied, smiling brightly. Christian walked through the terminal and onto the plane were he took his seat, directly behind the man he had seen in the line. The man would not talk to anyone but Christian took the liberty to ask him where he was from.

"Excuse me sir, how are you? My name is Chri---" Christian was cut off by the man's fairly loud snort.

"If you insist on talking to me, the Duke, then I suggest doing it to someone who actually cares," The Duke faced forward once more. Christian sat back in his seat. What a fun ride this would be.


	2. Meeting the BOHOS

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers : **Satine, LOTR Sparkling Pippin, Tani, MoulinRougeistheBEST, **and **Courtney.**

And also, I don't know how long a flight to France and back is so ten hours is my guess and my mom's guess.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

****

Meeting The B.O.H.O.S.

Ten hours, five bags of peanuts, 1 movie about dogs, 5 bathroom breaks, and 2 beers later, Christian arrived in Montmartre. As the plane came to a halt, Christian stood up. The Duke turned around, gave him a sort of disgusted look, and grabbed his carry on. He marched straight off the plane and into the terminal, Christian right behind him. They rounded the next corner and another one after that. The Duke, obviously paranoid, turned around and stopped Christian in his tracks.

"Boy, may I ask why you are following me?" The Duke asked, his temper growing shorter. Christina hesitated for a second, fearing the Duke, before answering.

"Well, I, uh….You see sure, uh, I….I am going to Montmartre to write about Truth, Beauty, Freedom, and Love," Christian finally sputtered out.

"Well, as am I. I warn you boy, we cross tracks again and I shall see you dead," The Duke advised, making Christian want to slump down and cry. He gulped and straightened up, realizing that he shouldn't be taking this.

"Yes sir," Christian replied firmly. The Duke turned around and continued through the doors. Christian walked out into the cool night and hailed for a taxi. The streets were close to empty now, for it was about 2:00 am. Worried about getting a taxi, Christian began to walk slowly down the side of the street. The Duke had gone up the other way with his chauffer and his man servant, Warner.

Christian had only a small bag, which made his journey much easier. It was a good thing too, there seemed to be no taxis in sight for a while. Christian rounded each corner and crossed every street until finally reaching the actual city of Montmartre. His feet had grown quite weary by now and he was feeling short on breath. He, now, stood in front of a fairly large, but fairly indecent, hotel. The name, being in French, was difficult for Christian to make out so he simply ignored it and entered it. 

A small women with wild red hair, pulled back into a tight but massy bun, sat, sleeping behind the desk. Every so often, loud snores would erupt from her, making it quite hard for Christian to get her attention. After many tries, Christian gave up and put down his bag. He reached behind her desk and grabbed the key to the room he had reserved. He almost had it when the key slipped from his fingers and into the lap of the sleeping women.

"Shit!" Christian slipped under his breath. He gently reached down and proceeded in grabbing the key when a strong fist grabbed his arm and held it tight.

"What do you think you're doing, laddie?" The women gasped in her raspy voice.

"Um, sorry m'am. I was getting my key," Christian said, sheepishly.

"N' you didn't bother to ask me?" The women stirred, getting up from her seat, which seemed like such a challenge for her due to the great gasps and moans coming from her. "Who are you?" 

"Christian James," He replied, still a little shy and looking down at the ground.

"Look at me when you're speakin' please," The women muttered, flipping through a big book. "Ah, let's see, James, James, James. Ah, `ere it is, James, Christian James. Right, does your key say room b-3?"

"Yes, m'am, it does," 

"Well, go on Laddie! Get to your room! N' don't go botherin' other people at 3:00 now, kay laddie?"

"Yes, m'am," Christian bent down and grabbed his bags in his hands. He smiled to the women and walked straight upstairs, to the third floor. His very own garret that he now rented, practically owned. He unlocked the door in a nervous fret and walked in. He dropped his bags and crashed on the bed, not to open his eyes until morning.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A small knock on his door awoke Christian the next day. Unwillingly, he opened one eye and then the next. He pulled one leg over the bed as the knocks grew louder.

"Coming!" Christian called, groggily. He walked up the door and opened it to reveal a miniature man of about 4 feet. 

"How do you do? My name is Henri Marie Raymond Toulouse Letrac Montfa!" The man exclaimed, bowing.

"Good afternoon sir, I am Christian," Christian replied, smiling slightly. He backed away to let Toulouse enter.

"I am the caretaker of this place! Anything you need?" Christian just shook his head, in hopes that Toulouse would leave him alone to sleep. But, instead, Toulouse glanced over at the heap of papers on Christian's floor. "Ah, you're a writer?" He limped over to the heap, with his cane, and picked them up and began to look through them. 

"Yes, I am," Christian replied, snatching the papers from Toulouse. A loud thump erupted from the top floor. Toulouse looked up as a furious look swept over his face.

"Damn B.O.H.O.S.!" He shouted, shaking his fist in the air. Christian looked at Toulouse puzzlingly. "The B.O.H.O.S. are a group of five men, me (for shame), A Narcoleptic Argentinean, a "Doctor", Audrey, and Satie," Toulouse said, not moving his eyes from the ceiling. Christian nodded and looked back up at the ceiling as well.

"Darn floor! They used to make them weaker in the old days!" Cried a voice from the upstairs. Toulouse grabbed Christian's hand and dragged him towards the door.

"I'll show them!" 

The two raced upstairs and into the room. 

"B.O.H.O.S.! Please stop making all this noise!"

"But, Toulouse, the Narcoleptic Argentinean fell unconscious! He should have fallen through the floor but he didn't cause the damn floors are so strong!" Satie explained. Another B.O.H.O. started to speak but Christian interrupted.

"So, exactly, what does B.O.H.O.S. stand for anyway?" Christian asked. Smiles that were originally on their faces, swept away and they looked around at each other for answers. None of them seemed able to answer, however, so Satie saw it right for a change in subject.

"Ah, now that the Narcoleptic Argentinean is unconscious, how will continue to practice?" 

"Christian can do it!" Toulouse exclaimed. So, before he knew it, Christian was up on a mountain made of cardboard. 

"We need to figure out the right song for this," Audrey said. 

"The hills are alive with the sound of music!" Christian sang out. A loud applause came form them. 

"Bravo, you should write our movie!" Toulouse exclaimed with excitement.

"But I am the director!" cried Audrey.

"Well, I am sorry Audrey, but, Christian seems to be our new Craig Pearce and Baz Lurhmann!" Deeply hurt by that comment, Audrey went into his room and slammed the door behind him.

"Christian, here is your first glass of absinthe,"


	3. Love is Just a Game

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews!!!

I would like to especially thank Satine and Tani!! For their support and their friendship to me!!

Tani, this chapter is dedicated to you!! Thanks!!

____________________________________________________________________________________

Christian spent a few more hours with the B.O.H.O.S. before biding them goodbye and set off to explore the town of Montmartre. Things were going better for him than he thought. First off, he was offered a job, a great one at that. He had made new friends already, who he was having dinner with that night at a club called Moulin Rouge. And, best of all, there were plenty of decent looking women around for him to settle down with!

Christian wandered the cobble streets, looking in the different shop windows and even exploring some. He saw couples in corners exchanging kisses. He saw old friend reuniting for an old cup of coffee. He saw a load of books to read. It was all good.

On the corner ahead was a minor shop, stocked shelf to shelf with books. Christian curiously sauntered over to it with am stimulating look on his face. Outside the substantial doors made of oak, was a row of tiny pink tables; matching the décor of the shop. A display of books was present outside the shop. A large sign hung over the rack, in big bold letters were the words: **LOVE IS JUST A GAME**

TOP TEN BEST SELLER!

Christian probingly flipped over the front cover. He inquisitively read the title page: **LOVE IS JUST A GAME**

By: Satine Cartier

He closed the book and turned it over:

**LOVE IS JUST A GAME**

Are you a women who is just so tired of 

Men who leave you, cheat on you, put inanimate objects before you? Here is an idea: put them 

last in your life! Get out there and do something 

With your life. It's more than just a box of chocolates!

This book will help you along the way to freedom!!

Christian snickered as he placed the book back on the rack. He turned to leave as a sudden thought struck him, _maybe _ _he should check this book out to see what it was all about!_

Quite fond of his idea, Christian gathered together every euro in his pocket and picked up the same copy that he had just put down. He walked into the shop and placed the book on the counter. The cashier looked at him, smiled and then looked at the book. A puzzled expression appeared on her face as she rung the book up and placed it into a bag. Christian paid her 6 euros and left the shop.

He strode down the cobble streets again and wound up back at the hotel. He walked through the door and nodded a the red-haired women who had given him a room before.

He jogged up the stairs and wandered straight into his room. He sat on the creaky wooden bed and immediately flipped open the book and began to read, occasionally being disturbed by loud thumps from upstairs.

Christian had just finished chapter two, detailing the exact art that is job hunting, when Toulouse popped in the door way. Christian, absorbed in the beginning of the third chapter, about how kids are nothing more than a mistake, did not move a muscle.

"Christian! Come, we must leave for dinner!" Toulouse exclaimed. Christian reluctantly looked up and rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Alright, Toulouse. Let me just grab my coat and hat," Christian laid the book down on the damp mattress and leapt off the bed. Toulouse backed into the bureau flabbergasted. "Are you okay?" Christian asked, laughing slightly.

"Yes--I----er---thought you would get dressed up!" Toulouse exclaimed.

"Do you want me to get dressed up?" Christian asked in a sort of tone that made him seem too vulnerable.

"Would you?" Toulouse, a little too eagerly.

"Fine, I will," Christian said, snickering at him as Toulouse crossed the room and left.

A delicate blue suit was laid out on his bed for him to dress in, complimentary of the Argentinean. Christian stripped of his black trousers and black suspenders. He rested his stained white shirt on the corner of the bed. He slipped the blue trousers over his sweaty legs. The white dress shirt came next and then the blue dress jacket.  


Christian moseyed out to the front where a large black limo was waiting for them. Toulouse, swiftly followed by The Argentinean, Satie, the Doctor, and Audrey, swept down the hotel steps and took a seat in the limo.

"Christian, are you ready to present the movie script to Harold Zidler?" Toulouse asked anxiously.

"Who's Harold Zidler," Christian asked.

"The owner of the Moulin Rouge!"

"Oh,"

The rest of the ride there was spent in rapt silence. Christian wondered amorously about the bar and what Satine would be like. The limo circled under the bright moonlight as they rounded another corner and there, on the hill, was the notorious bar, The Moulin Rouge. A fluorescent neon light hung just above the entrance. Drunk men sat around café tables around the outside. Large windows displayed the activity going on inside. The building itself was brightly painted orange. A superior wall surrounded the back side, where a path led up to the actual dance floor. Enclosed between the cabaret and the dance floor was a massive pink elephant, belonging to Satine herself.

The limo pulled up in front of the doors, allowing a grand entrance from the men. First, out stepped Christian. A bouquet of flowers, that Satie had secretly bought, were held graciously in Christian's arms. A wonderful mix of roses and daisies. An usher kindly awaited for them and opened the door as they came closer.

The four B.O.H.O.S. entered the cabaret as Christian followed closely behind. They crossed the wood floor and marched straight out the back door, which led directly to the dance floor. Christian walked up to the bar and sat down on a leather stool. A raspy old bartender came up to him.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked.

"Sure, scotch on the rocks," Christian smiled at him for a minute before turning round to glance through the men at the bar. There was a wild assortment of ages. There were men who seemed to be at least eighty years old! They were laughing, baring their toothless gums and crying "Bring on the women!" as best they could, but actually only forming the words "Ring the men!" Making others want to turn away.

Then, there were the young men. The ones who think they can get anything they desire. Well, they sit there all hush hush, awaiting the arrival of the beautiful can-can dancers and as they wait for their inappropriate entertainment that proper people usually wouldn't allow, they order the worlds finest drinks. The drinks that get them drunk and make them act the way they shouldn't. They get disgusted by Christian when they should really be disgusted with themselves. How disgusting.

Christian sat there, still browsing the bar, as Toulouse came next to him. 

"Christian, mission accomplished! We have successfully invaded Zidler!"

Christian sat there, puzzled for a moment before the room began to grow dark. The stage, that was located directly in front of him, was empty for a mere second before a striking women came through the curtain. The women had shimmering fiery red hair that hung down to her shoulders. Her large sparkling eyes flashed around the soundless men.

__

The French are glad to die for love………..

____________________________________________________________________

What do you think?? Please leave a review. Tani, sorry I updated this first. I have a writers block for Your Dearest Love and also, I wanted to get this one updated cause it hadn't been updated in a while too. I will update Your dearest love once I get a chance!! I promise


End file.
